


And The Night Just Keeps Getting Brighter

by DiamondCaviar



Series: Lantern Adventures in Vegas [2]
Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Hangover Fusion, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunken Shenanigans, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, guykyle gets more attention this time around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:44:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8623294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiamondCaviar/pseuds/DiamondCaviar
Summary: What happens when five Green Lantern officers let loose in Las Vegas?Answer: Almost everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For a couple of months, I had this thing 95% completed, and then I kinda just... didn't finish it until recently? Oh boy, I think I'm just bad at writing lengthier pieces, honestly. But, I'm very glad it's done!!
> 
> For anyone unsure of the timeline, this takes place between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 of [In Brightest Night](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7942879/), but I think both pieces can be read in whatever order! Hopefully, this one answers that big question of "what were those goofs up to that night???", and there may be room for one last interquel that revolves around Hal...
> 
> NOTE: Because of the nature of this AU (Hangover), this thing kinda goes off the rails in regards to the characters and whether they're in character or not. They're meant to be exaggerated versions of themselves, so I've tried to write them out-of-character, _but_ in the most in-character way possible. I've tried my best, but I understand if this kinda plays out as a complete miss for some.
> 
> (Also, I don't own these characters, so @ DC: please don't sue me for using them in such a silly way.)

“Yeah, I'm not feeling it yet,” Hal says after the third shot. The only thing that's making him vaguely dizzy is the way he throws back the shot; other than that, he feels fine. _Better_ than fine. “I think we should just go downstairs and find something stronger to drink.”

He grins when Guy scowls at him, but the latter yields, even if unwillingly. “Kilowog told me this was some traditional Bolovaxian drink—he compared it to whiskey or somethin'. It ain't bad, but we're not gonna end up havin' any fun with this.”

“Are we looking for _fun_ , or are we looking for _trouble_?” John points out, but he also agrees—he's not feeling nearly as buzzed as he'd like to be.

“As far as these guys are concerned, is there a difference?” Simon gestures to Hal and Guy, and John just chuckles in agreement.

“Maybe it affects humans differently?” Kyle says, turning the empty glass over in his hand. “It probably just works on Kilowog since y'know, we're not exactly built the same way he is.”

“Ooh, so you think Kilowog is _built_ , eh?” Guy grins, giving Kyle a friendly shove.

“You know that's not what I meant,” Kyle gives Guy a look, shoving him back with a little more force. The others have a laugh at his expense, but not before taking another shot.

“Yeah... that's definitely _not_ an image I needed,” Hal laughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and trying to clear the aforementioned image out of his head. He really needs to get properly drunk. They all do, actually. “Come on, guys. The city is waiting for us.”

“So, what are we doing first?” Simon asks after they've all filed into the elevator.

“I guess that's up Hal, but I'd recommend dinner before we go sight-seeing,” John says as the car takes them down. “I took the liberty of reserving a table at Hakkasan, unless you were looking to eat somewhere else?”

“Nah, sounds great,” Hal says, clapping John on the shoulder. “Thanks again, John.”

“Should've picked John as your best man, Hal,” Guy mutters from behind him, and although he says it in a low voice, there's no doubt that he meant to say it loud enough for Hal to hear. But there's no real fire behind it; he's just stating what he believes to be a fact. “Should've picked any of us over Oliver, as a matter o' fact.”

“Guy, _honestly_ , what the hell?” Kyle scolds him, but Guy just shrugs, unconcerned.

Hal doesn't agree outright, but he still admits that Guy has some basis to his argument. “A long time ago, I promised Ollie first. You already know that, and I wasn't going to go back on that promise—he's still one of my best friends. If it's any consolation, it's _you guys_ I'm on this trip with.”

“Aw, would you look at that—I'm touched,” Guy holds a hand to his chest, clearly unmoved by Hal's speech. He barks out a laugh when Hal flips him off.

“If you're done rocking the boat...” John cuts in, rolling his eyes at Guy's incessant pettiness. It's unnecessary for Guy to act offended on his behalf, especially when John himself isn't holding any grudges. “...we're here.”

Hal begins to lead the group out of the elevator, but he pauses right after his first step. He feels a strange sensation, like his body is lurching forward ahead of him, and he stops to regain his balance. It doesn't seem like he's moved at all, but there's an undeniable _shift_ of some sort. He slowly turns around to ask the others if they'd felt that as well, but they don't seem to be paying attention to him.

Simon and John seem to be suddenly making up some absurdly complicated handshake, and Guy and Kyle are looking... _cozy_ in the corner. Hal blinks a few times, more than a few questions on his tongue, but he forgets them the moment he opens his mouth.

“Uh, did you guys feel that?” Hal asks them instead.

“Feel what?” John asks him, but he's more focused on completing a chain of high-fives and fist bumps with Simon. They end with a chest bump and emphatic yells, and Hal feels the laughter rising in his chest. He tries to muffle the giggles with a hand, but he still ends up doubling over in laughter. He feels lightheaded and tipsy, but that can't be... he's barely drunk—

“The ground... it like... moved? Or— _haha_ —was that just me-”

Guy is suddenly under his arm, hauling him up so that he's standing upright. Hal wants to ask him what him and Kyle were getting all snuggly over, but his laughter is shaking him so aggressively that he can't put together a cohesive sentence.

“Get up, you goof. You're blockin' the way to the elevator,” Guy is snickering as well, though it's beyond Hal what _he's_ laughing about. They're all stumbling out of the hall, out into the casino, and the bright lights seem to catch them by surprise.

“Whoa,” Kyle says. They all pause, entranced by the dancing lights of the slot machines and the constant influx of people. “ _Whoa_ , we're in _Vegas_ , you guys.”

“We're in Vegas,” Simon echoes, and Hal feels the weight of his body against his shoulder. “And... 'm kinda sleepy.”

“No, buddy,” Hal puts an arm around him, shaking him gently. “No, we're gonna be exploring Vegas. You can't fall asleep on us just yet. The night's still young.”

Simon nods off for a second, and he immediately wakes up in the next, shaking his head vigorously to rattle the tiredness out of him. “Whoa. _Whoa_. Okay, I'm awake.”

“Me too,” Guy inputs, sliding between Kyle and John to put his arms around their shoulders. “ _Me too_ , fellas. And I think it's high time we got fucked up.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Hal says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning on the camera. “We need to take a picture. Gotta document this entire experience.”

They all crowd into view, raising peace signs, horn hands, and middle fingers. He takes at least five consecutive shots before he's satisfied, and they all cheer like they've accomplished something amazing.

Hal still feels inexplicably warm with laughter, but he's done with trying to understand why. It's a good feeling, and the others seem to be feeling the same way. Maybe it's finally the buzz of Kilowog's weird Bolovaxian whiskey, but it all feels _different_ somehow, like there's an undercurrent of recklessness that's slowly taking over.

 _Whatever it is_ , Hal figures, _there's no better place and time for it._

“Guys... let's get to it.”

 

* * *

 

All Hal remembers of their dinner at Hakkasan is that Guy ends up laughing so hard that he snorts rice up his nose, and the group isn't even surprised by the fact that Kyle ends up being slightly charmed by that. It just feels so... ordinary. Still weird, but _not_ unexpected. And when Simon generously foots the bill for a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, Guy swears that Hal looks like he's about to _cry_.

“I'll buy you a bottle of expensive champagne someday,” Hal says, chuckling as he wipes the wetness from his eyes. He snaps several photos of the bottle, and by the time he's done, there are at least twenty photos of them with the champagne. “And _you_ try not to cry, you heartless bastard.”

“ _I'm_ havin' the time of my _life_ ,” Guy says, his champagne flute swaying unsteadily in his hand. “Good food, good alcohol, good company, and the night's barely begun. No time for sissy shit like _cryin'_. Hell, I don't even think I'd cry at _my_ own wedding.”

“You will cry, I promise you that,” John laughs, tipping his glass at Guy. “You always try to act like you're hot shit, but you're a softie. When you see your sweetheart walking down that aisle, it won't be up to you anymore. You're _going_ to— _hic_ —shed manly tears.”

“I'm gonna side with John,” Kyle says, the only one who actually looks properly drunk. His face is flushed, but ironically enough, he speaks with more clarity than the rest of them.

“ _Tsk_ ,” Guy frowns, taking a sip from the flute. “Boo you two, then.”

“No, no, no. John's right,” Simon both nods _and_ shakes his head in agreement.

“Guy will ugly cry. Like, reality-TV-star-level of ugly crying,” Hal adds, having apparently spilled some of the champagne on himself. “Goddamnit, I'm... gonna be— _hic_ — _sobbing_ at my wedding.”

“Absolutely,” John's head bobs up and down like he's agreeing to a very smart suggestion, and then he looks up at Hal. “You're getting married. In two days.”

“Lemme start the speeches. Here lies, Hal Jordan,” Guy begins solemnly, pretending that his glass is a microphone. “An annoyin', overrated, troublesome pain in the ass. Probably the forty-fifth best Lantern overall. We all know Mogo's the best. Amen.”

“Isn't calling him 'troublesome' _and_ a 'pain in the ass' just— _hic_ —repetitive?” Simon points with his glass, and it spills champagne on the table. None of them seem to notice nor care.

“Not when it comes to him,” Guy laughs, putting an arm around Hal and _dousing_ him with the rest of the champagne in his flute.

And Hal just laughs, bordering hysterics as he pours champagne on Guy as well. Their whole table erupts in uproarious laughter, causing the staff to approach them and kindly remind them that their behavior isn't suitable for a restaurant like Hakkasan. Kyle sobers up the quickest, apologizing profusely, but Guy covers his mouth with a hand.

“We're real sorry, yeah,” Guy begins, and Hal can't stop _giggling_. John and Simon are doing better jobs of hiding their laughter, and Kyle goes from guilty-looking to close to laughing with them. “But don't worry 'bout a thing. I'm sure you already know this, but _I'm—hic—_ a _Green Lantern_. The greatest one, as a matter o' fact. Take that however you'd like.”

The servers look confused by this, but they dubiously leave them be. Before they go, they leave the check holder at the end of the table, quietly sending them the message.

“I think that's our cue,” John says, still giggling. “We're, ah, probably too inebriated for a place like this.”

“That's... not possible,” Guy shakes his head. “We've... this is just our _first_ bottle.”

“Those shots on the terrace though,” Simon reminds them, taking sips directly from the champagne bottle.

“Do not count,” Guy continues to shake his head, and Hal feels dizzy from watching him. “Kilowog's Bolovaxian whiskey could _not_ get us wasted, even if— _hic_ —we drank our weight in it. It was just like drinkin' water.”

“What if it is though?” Hal says, grinning. “Maybe it's finally working and stuff. We're all...”

Hal makes a vague gesture with his hands, unsure exactly what he's trying to convey. A couple of seconds later, and his train of thought is completely derailed. What exactly _was_ he saying? What were they talking about?

“Look at that. Hal's doing some interpretive dance,” Simon notes in mild awe.

John shakes his head, chuckling and downing the rest of his glass. “Yeah, a show pony like him would be good on a stage somewhere.”

“Hal? A _dancer_?!” Guy laughs hard enough that he nearly slides out of his seat. He's red in the face and breathless by the time Kyle and Simon haul him back into the chair, and he's still snorting at the suggestion. “I bet he's got two left feet! People'd be throwin' money at him so that he'd _stop_ dancin'!”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Kyle cuts in, not particularly concerned with the way Guy's giggling against his shoulder. He grabs the check holder and slides his card inside. “Since Simon got us the champagne, dinner'll— _hic_ —dinner'll be on me.”

“Aw, Kyle,” Hal looks at him, suddenly a little water-eyed. He reaches around Guy to clap Kyle on the shoulder, which earns him a glare from Guy. Hal just grabs his cheek in response and pinches until Guy slaps his hand away.

“You two done being children yet?” John snorts, pushing his chair out and standing up. Simon waterfalls the rest of the Veuve Clicquot into his mouth, and he stares at the bottle affectionately. John gently takes it from him and puts it back on the table while Kyle separates Guy and Hal before their pinching war escalates into a full-blown fist fight.

 

* * *

 

They manage to get to Excalibur in one piece—John and Simon nearly fall behind when they both stop and stare at the MGM Grand—and find their way to the Fun Dungeon.

“Hey, let's see who can win the most prizes here,” Simon points to the giant teddy bear that's strung up against the back wall of one of the game booths.

“All right, now we're talking,” Hal agrees to the suggestion, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. He's feeling strange and extremely excitable, and there's no better way to burn off that nervous energy than with some carnival games and friendly competition.

“Now, I don't wanna _brag_ -”

“Oh, but you _will_ ,” John interrupts Guy, but Guy just throws an arm around his shoulders and shushes him.

“As I was sayin'...” Guy begins again, and Kyle is just shaking his head. “I don't wanna brag, but I could beat all of you with my eyes closed. I'm somethin' of a champ at darts and... and...”

He gestures vaguely to the game area, and he spies something in the distance. People are surrounding a display full of bottles and they're all throwing rings at them, trying to land a ring around a bottleneck. Guy points to them and nods. “...everyone knows I'm a champ at ring-slingin' too.”

Hal snorts. “Those are two completely different things, but I'm calling you out on it anyway. You and me, buddy. This'll decide who the best ring-slinger is, once and for all.”

“You're on! Just don't throw a hissy fit when I make a fool outta you!!” Guy grins, and the two run towards the game.

Kyle, John, and Simon watch them slap their money down on the counter and take buckets of rings for themselves. They look between each other, shrugging and following them there. Simon takes out a five from his wallet and tosses his money in as well. “I'm garbage at these carnival games, but I'm pretty sure we can do better than them.”

Guy and Hal are throwing their rings into the pit, and halfway through their buckets, both of them still haven't successfully gotten a ring around a bottle.

On his first try, Kyle lands his ring on the bottle in the center, landing him the largest prize. The two stare at him, completely dumbfounded as he shrugs. “Uh, beginner's luck?”

He pushes his bucket towards John and Simon, both of whom earn prizes before they run out of rings. They all laugh when both Hal and Guy reach the bottom of their buckets without winning any prizes, and it takes a lot of persuading to get them to leave.

“ _Hrmph._ I was just warmin' up,” Guy mutters, even though he's still smirking. “At least _I_ got close to landin' one!”

“Half of your rings landed _outside_ of the booth,” Hal laughs. “But it looks like neither one of us won. It's a draw, I guess.”

“It's a draw until I beat your ass at somethin' else,” Guy corrects him, and he yanks Hal down to mess up his hair.

“So... what do we do with these?” John asks, hauling the large dragon over his shoulder.

“I don't know about you guys, but I'm taking this home to my nephew,” Simon lifts the dragon up and places it on his shoulders as well.

“Um,” Kyle says, and his stuffed prize is almost as large as he is. The other four shrug when he looks to them for any suggestions. So instead, he stops a nearby kid—whose face is covered in melted ice cream and frosting—and kneels as he holds it out to her. “Hi, do you want this? I won it, but I don't think I'm strong enough to carry it.”

She stares at him for a long time. “Are you a knight?”

“Haha, something like that,” Kyle nods.

The girl is quiet for a long time, seemingly suspicious of him, and Kyle considers just walking away from the situation before any misunderstanding occurs and he ends up in a holding cell. But then, the girl's eyes light up in delight as she hugs the dragon close. The sheer size of the thing makes the small girl look even smaller, and even Guy is making an _aww_ sound behind him. Frosting and ice cream smear across the fabric of the stuffed animal, but she doesn't seem to care. “Thank you!!”

The girl toddles off towards her parents, and Kyle rejoins the group. Hal nods, holding a hand to his chest. “That was beautiful. I think I _felt_ something there.”

“Guy almost cried,” John says, and Guy blows a raspberry at him.

“The only person who'll be cryin' is _Hal_ when I destroy him at one of these games,” Guy says, turning away from the group to make sure there isn't any wetness in his eyes. “Come on, let's get on with it.”

“Denial isn't just a river in Egypt,” Simon mutters, and Guy just throws an arm around his shoulder and rubs his knuckles against Simon's head. “ _Ow_ , point proven.”

After ending in a tie at skeeball, horse racing, balloon darts, fishbowl ping pong, _and_ the shooting gallery, Hal and Guy just decide to sit the rest of the games out. It doesn't help that the other three keep effortlessly winning prizes and giving them away, but with the positive energy that's going around, they can't stay frustrated for long.

“Y'know...” Guy begins when Hal returns with two glasses of rum and cola. He takes the other drink appreciatively as they watch the other three try their hand at the milk bottles. Kyle juggles the softballs before tossing them, and it makes Guy grin. “Y'know, Kyle's really somethin' else.”

“Yup,” Hal nods, taking a drink. “Torch-bearer who fought the good fight when none of us could. Ion. Hell of an artist. All of that great stuff.”

“Yeah, but c'mon, he's way more than that,” Guy says, leaning on his arm. He begins to sip his drink, and it only takes a couple of moments before he's tipping all of it back into his mouth. Hal just watches him in mild amusement, taking slower drinks from his own glass. When it's nothing but ice, Guy slams it back onto the table and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “ _Christ_ , I'm in love.”

“That's neat,” Hal smiles cordially. “Yeah, rum and cola are a good combination. Hey, there's a... what's it called again? A claw game? Let's go check it out.”

“Not that,” Guy shakes his head, following Hal to the claw crane As Hal loads the machine with quarters, Guy leans against the glass and keeps his attention focused on the other three. “ _Kyle._ ”

“Huh? Oh yeah, I love Kyle too. Good kid,” Hal nods, giving him a thumbs up as he takes a long drink and begins to operate the claw.

“Yeah... I love Kyle.” Guy smiles, and he just feels warm and fuzzy— _fuzzy_ , for Christ's sake—inside. He continues to watch the other group, and when Simon successfully knocks over all three of the milk bottles, Kyle high-fives him and John chest-bumps him. Then he glances at Hal, who's still gently nudging the claw in the right direction. “You ain't gonna catch anythin'.”

“I've got a couple of _tricks_ up my sleeve, pal,” Hal says, and he's smirking like he knows something. Guy just chuckles and watches as the claw descends, landing on top of a stuffed bear. The claw closes, and as it rises, the bear slips out of the grip. But Hal doesn't seem fazed at all. “Anyway, if you really _love_ Kyle so much, why don't you just _marry_ him?”

Guy already has his mouth open to make fun of Hal for missing, but he's stopped by the last thing Hal says. “Heh. You know what? You're damn right.”

“Uh-huh,” Hal agrees absentmindedly, much more concerned with catching the bear with the red bowtie.

Guy slaps the side of the machine and nods vigorously, bobbing his head up and down like he's agreeing to the only thing in the world that makes sense. Considering how disjointed he feels, there's not that many things that make sense at the moment to begin with. He makes his way to the other three, only hesitating for a fraction of a second when, in the corner of his eye, he sees the crane game's claw glowing a soft green.

He turns around, only to see Hal retrieving the teddy bear from the prize box underneath the machine. Guy purses his lips and considers asking him why the hell the crane's claw was glowing like a damn _construct_ , but when he turns back around to see Kyle waving at him, Guy completely forgets all about it.

“There you guys are,” Kyle says, grinning. “Simon and John are looking for those... those, uh... those souvenir cup things? It's like, a three-foot cup of alcohol that comes with a lanyard? I dunno, but we should get those too. We could all match and stuff.”

Kyle chuckles to himself at the idea of the five of them walking around with yard-long slushies around their necks, and Guy can't help but smile fondly at him.

“Kyle, let's get married.”

The chuckling doesn't stop, but Kyle seems to sober up just a little bit at that. “What?”

“You heard me,” Guy says, taking Kyle's hands into his own and drawing him closer. The questioning look in Kyle's eyes remains, and although his smile falters a little bit, Guy continues anyway. It's Vegas—there's no better place to go for broke. “I wanna get married. I wanna marry you.”

And Kyle just fixes him with a long stare. The trill of carnival music continues to play in the background, and children continue to weave around them. This kind of pregnant pause would normally frustrate Guy with the amount of suspense it carries, but as drunk as he is—he's not even sure if he can call this feeling _drunk_ —he's more than fine with waiting. Then a quiet “oh” escapes Kyle's lips as his eyes go round.

“You're asking me to marry you,” Kyle murmurs, his voice going quiet at the belated realization. “Holy _shit._ ”

“I know we haven't even told anyone we're even together yet, but those are just _formalities_ ,” Guy says, dropping his voice to match Kyle's. It's a miracle they can even hear each other above all the noise, but maybe it one of those bullshit love phenomenons—specifically, the one where the world goes quiet around them or something—that Tora insists exists. Well, it's only bullshit if anyone _aside_ from Tora suggests it.

“Our friends are already here with us, and we're in Vegas for Christ's sake. If there's ever gonna be a place 'n' a time, it's _here_ 'n' _now_.”

“You swear to _God_ you're sure about this,” Kyle warns him, but there's no real threat behind it. In fact, he's practically _beaming_. “You swear to _God_ , Guy Gardner.”

“To the Father, the Son, and the Holy Goddamn Ghost,” Guy recites, and his face is aching from all the smiling. “I've never been more sure of somethin' in my entire life.”

And Hal, watching from a distance that barely labels him as a friend and _not_ a creep, begins to clap slowly when Kyle all but _tackles_ Guy. They're kissing with such fervor that Hal feels like he should be at least a little nauseated, but the alcohol—and probably Kilowog's weird alien whiskey—has him feeling warm and sentimental.

He turns to a nearby family and jabs a thumb in Guy and Kyle's direction. “Those are my friends. They have _me_ to thank for their upcoming wedding.”

The family just eyes him warily before moving on to the next carnival game.

John and Simon rejoin Hal, both of them wearing the souvenir cups around their neck. John slurps the frozen alcohol and bumps the cup against Hal. “What the hell's happening over there?”

“Guy... needs CPR,” Simon ventures a guess, his eyes squinting as he focuses on them. “And Kyle... Kyle's just being the good person that he is.”

A moment passes.

“Yeah, never mind. I don't think that's what's going on,” Simon shakes his head, sipping his slushy drink through an equally long straw.

“They're getting married,” Hal informs them proudly, acting like he had a hand in their relationship from start to finish. Aside from the gentle nudging he'd given Guy just a few moments ago, Hal didn't have a stake in any of it—he didn't even know they were together in the first place, but to him, that's just another technicality. “And it's kinda thanks to me. But forget that for a second—look at what I won at the claw machine. A bear with a bowtie.”

“ _What?_ ” Simon's eyebrows shoot up, while John barely looks taken aback.

“That's a nice stuffed animal,” John says, nodding thoughtfully.

“Agreed, but...?” Simon gestures to Guy and Kyle vaguely—they've pulled apart, _thankfully_ , but they're grinning like absolute fools, completely oblivious to the fact that they're still standing in front of the milk bottle game—and just lets his hand fall to his side, a testament to his bewilderment. “Man, I must be way out of it, or you just... _wow_. Cool, I guess.”

“And what do you mean that it was thanks to you?” John says to Hal, grinning. “What did _I_ say? Didn't I tell you that there was definitely something going on between them? And you told me that Guy had the emotional capacity of a potato, which frankly sounds more like you-”

“All right, all right,” Hal says, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You called it.”

“I expect to be paid in full. And so will Sora, Kilowog, Mogo, Salaak-”

They're now standing just several feet away from Guy and Kyle, not entirely sure how to make their presence known.

“Wait, hold on, _Salaak_? He said he was on my side!” Hal shakes his head. “He didn't tell me that he was going to _betray_ me, so I don't owe him anything. And when the hell did Mogo decide to make a bet too? What'll _he_ do with money?”

“Save it? I don't know, but you owe him too,” John shrugs. He makes the executive decision to properly approach Guy and Kyle, clapping Guy on the shoulder and giving him a small shake. “Hey, just heard the good news.”

“Yeah, congrats on getting engaged, guys,” Simon pats Kyle on the back, waving his souvenir cup back and forth. “I mean, even though we found out you guys were together _afterwards_. Still cool.”

“Do you guys already have a date in mind?” Hal grins, throwing an arm around the both of them. He positions his phone so that they all fit in a quick photo, and behind him, Simon and John are raising their cups like champions.

Guy finally stops staring dreamily at Kyle and nods. “Tonight.”

For some reason, that announcement doesn't even faze any of them.

“Well then,” Hal nods, swaying forward slightly. He can barely stand straight, let alone _think_ straight, but that barely concerns him. As long as they all stick together, they'll make it through one night in Vegas. “Let's go get that wedding license. Actually, hold on for a second—we need to take more pictures. I think my eyes were closed in those earlier ones.”

 

* * *

 

They make it to the regional justice center _somehow_ , and they're no less merry. The group enters the license bureau belting an off-key rendition of B.J. Thomas' “Hooked On A Feeling”, much to the chagrin of the clerks. Guy and Kyle are giggling the entire time they're talking with the clerk, and they can barely calm down as they fill out the license application.

“You think they can send us stuff to our place on Oa?” Guy asks when he reaches the address portion of the form, completely serious. “Ah, fuck it. I'll just put down John's place. Least we all know he's probably the most responsible.”

“Okay then,” John snorts amusedly, draining his cup of the remaining slushy. He raises the three-foot long cup victoriously, holding his other hand to his chest. “That was life-changing. We all need one of these.”

“I'll do you one better; I'll make you my best man,” Guy says out of nowhere. “Since Hal over here completely dropped the ball with that one.”

“Hey,” Hal frowns, but he still concedes, quietly snapping photos of Guy and Kyle as they fill out the license application.

John raises an eyebrow at him, dubious, but the doubt turns into flattery and joy as he grins. He raises the empty glass in Guy's direction. “It'd be an honor.”

“Hal, be mine? Uh, best man,” Kyle clarifies, and unsurprisingly, Guy is the one laughing the loudest at his mistake. He's nearly in tears from how hard he's laughing, even after Hal accepts. “And Simon? We'll need a ring-bearer.”

“Hell yes,” Simon raises a victorious fist, with the giant dragon plush from earlier seated right next to him. “Glad you're _clearly_ choosing the best ring-bearer, in _and_ out of space.”

“Okay, okay, since we've got that settled...” Hal says, and his brain fizzles out for a good few seconds. The group doesn't seem to question his abrupt pause, seeing as how they all look similarly dazed and glassy-eyed. Hal blinks once, twice, then remembers _where_ the hell they are and _what_ the hell they're doing. “Jesus, I almost forgot my _name_. All right, anyway... wedding venue.”

Guy and Kyle don't respond immediately.

“Because you guys are getting married,” John reminds them, and a light clearly goes on for the both of them.

“Holy _Christ_ , we're gettin' married,” Guy repeats in awe, and for the umpteenth time tonight, the group is reduced to uncontrollable laughter. In fact, Hal laughs so hard that he thinks he's going to be physically sick—shit, _definitely_ sick—and he tosses his teddy bear to John before stumbling off to the nearby restroom.

John scrubs his face with a hand and snorts, setting the stuffed animal down on the seat next to him. “Damn, we just cannot get it together. Lemme go check on Hal before we continue this.”

Simon raises a hand, still giggling, but looking just as nauseous as Hal. “Don't. I'll.”

And that's all he manages to say before leaving his own prizes and quickly running to the bathroom himself. The other three stare after him, watching the bathroom door swing open and close before deciding that yes, going to throw up would be a good idea.

“B'right back. Watch th' stuffies,” Guy manages to say to the clerks before sliding away from the counters and following the group into the bathroom.

They each occupy a stall to themselves, and after a few solid moments of awful gagging and retching, the five emerge. They look at each other, looking significantly weathered, but they all manage to snicker it off as they take to the sinks.

“So...” Hal says, washing off and running his wet hands through his hair. He feels better, but no less... drunk? High? He's barely certain; every car in his train of thought seems to continuously unhinge itself from the others, leaving him to chase after whichever one seems closest. Or makes the most sense. Or something. “...what are we doing here?”

“Wedding,” John says, scrubbing his face with water. “Venues.”

“Yelp it,” Simon suggests, grabbing a long sheet of paper towel and dabbing his face dry.

Hal makes a noise of agreement, following Guy and Kyle out of the restroom and back to the table they were sitting at. As they continue to fill out their application, John and Simon crowd around Hal and his phone, checking the nearest chapels.

“This one has Elvis as the minister,” Simon points it out, snorting so aggressively out of amusement that his forehead smacks Hal's shoulder. “...and _ow_.”

“Wait, what about this one?” John says, tapping on the screen. They lean in a little closer, and after about two seconds of deliberation, they decide that this is the one. No other chapel will do.

Guy and Kyle return with their license, and they're both glowing with so much happiness that Hal feels the need to squint. It makes no sense, seeing as they're indoors and no one is actually glowing, but the two just radiate in ways that currently don't compute.

Guy raises the license, and he doesn't even need to say anything. They all immediately leap to their feet, yelling and huddling around Guy and Kyle in some celebratory cheer. Hal grabs Guy's shoulders and shakes him violently as they scream at each other's faces, while Kyle, Simon, and John are arranging some sort of kick line.

And they're promptly escorted out of the building by security.

“ _And_ , by the way, we found the perfect place for you guys. But first, selfie.”

 

* * *

 

When they finally arrive to their destination—one of them managed to flag a couple of taxis down, and _someone_ paid—they pause right outside of the modest building. _Modest_ is a generous description, but seeing as they're definitely not the best judges of character at the moment, they unanimously decide that no other venue can hold a candle to this place.

“...I'm just saying, I think that it's repetitive to call it a _Hall_ and then a _Chapel_ ,” Simon reasons as they enter. “Hall of Justice Chapel? Chapel of Justice makes more sense.”

“Either way, the word _chapel_ doesn't make sense anymore,” Kyle laughs.

They're immediately greeted by a Wonder Woman pastiche whose makeup is smeared around the eyes as her false eyelashes barely hang on. She gives them all a bright smile, revealing the lipstick that's smudged on her teeth. But despite looking a little worse for wear, she still manages to beam at them with a wide and genuine smile. “Welcome to our humble Hall of Justice Chapel! What can I do for y'all tonight?”

“We...” Guy puts an arm around Kyle's waist and pulls him close against his side. “...wanna get married here.”

“That sounds fantastic! Just come on over here and we'll schedule your perfect day!” Wonder Woman begins to lead them to a counter on their right, but Kyle stops her.

“If it's possible, we'd like to get married tonight.”

“Ooh, tonight?” Wonder Woman grimaces, looking apologetic. “Well, y'all just caught us a few minutes before closin' time, and we're short-staffed to begin with since our Superman had to leave early to take care of the missus and the new baby...”

“Please,” Hal, John, and Simon step up simultaneously, and Wonder Woman takes a step back out of surprise. Hal continues for all of them. “We don't wanna come off strong, but it's kinda an extra special time for these two, and we're only here for the night...”

“And I'm a Green Lantern,” Guy blurts out, and they're all lucid enough to completely understand what Guy just said. “A _real_ one, mind ya.”

There's an uncomfortably long stretch of silence as the weight of Guy's admission sinks in. None of them risk a glance at each other, so they all just stare at the Wonder Woman imitation, waiting for her reaction and hoping that by some stroke of luck, she'll laugh it off and attribute it to them just being as silly and reckless as most Las Vegas visitors are.

“So am I,” John then adds, and everyone is thrown off.

They all fall quiet again, and Wonder Woman taps her chin a few thoughtful times before it clicks in her mind. Her eyes widen and her jaw drops simultaneously, and she points at John. “I recognize you! My _God_ —Billy, come out here!! To think, we have a real Green Lantern here at our little chapel of justice!!”

“What did I say? Chapel of Justice _is_ the better name,” Simon mutters solemnly to himself.

“My son is a huge fan of yours, Mr. Stewart! I can't tell ya how big of an honor this is,” Wonder Woman shakes his hand eagerly, much to Guy's slight annoyance and confusion. “Billy!! Where the hell are ya?! I've got a bonafide Lantern standing right here in front of me!”

The awkward tension in the room deflates like a popped balloon, and Hal exhales the breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding.

“Can't believe this. I said it _first_ ,” Guy gapes, completely flabbergasted. Hal just pats his shoulder sympathetically as he _really_ tries to bite down a laugh. Simon, on the other hand, is doubled over and gasping for air. Kyle's also having a chuckle at his expense, but it doesn't seem to sour Guy's mood at all.

“What is it, Wilma?” Bootleg Batman—or otherwise Billy, they assume—finally arrives, his pompadour a little droopy and sad. But he beams at the sight of John and immediately goes in for a handshake as well. “Mr. Stewart, sir, it's a pleasure to have you here! I'm a big fan of what you do!!”

“Never thought I'd see the day that Batman says something nice about a Green Lantern,” Hal mutters, smirking.

“And Guy Gardner!! Oh boy, don't think I didn't recognize you!!” Billy says, and Guy's spirits are lifted considerably. “Big fan! Big fan of you and your crew, and...”

He eyes the rest of the group, and his smile widens. “Are these friends of yours also...?”

They all glance at each other for a split second, all of their mouths open in order to chaotically deny these claims, but Guy speaks up before anyone else can. “No, no, no, no, no. No. See, Kyle here is just an artist. _Only_ an artist. Best artist around, as a matter of fact. And my buddy, Simon, only fixes up cars 'n' the like. While Hal...”

Guy looks at Hal, and his eyebrows draw together as he frowns. “...what do you do again?”

“I'm... just a test pilot,” Hal says, his voice going a little higher at the end of the declaration, making it sound more like a question. But neither Billy nor Wilma seem to notice.

“Oh, I see,” Billy nods, having apparently bought the half-truths. “So, what can we gentlemen do for you?”

“Mister... Gardner, was it? And his adorable fiancé want to get married here tonight,” Wilma explains, chipping at her already broken manicure. “Now, I know it's late'n all, but seein' as we have an _actual_ Green Lantern officer here, I figure it'd be nice if their trip wasn't a complete waste...”

“Are you kidding me? Of course we'll accommodate you guys! It's not every day you get to host a Green Lantern, much less two!!” Billy grins. “We'll take care of everything, so don't worry about any of it.”

In less than ten minutes, Billy has the chapel redecorated with bat signal and Superman shield-shaped garlands, and Hal decides that he's going to be the wedding sponsor.

“I got this one,” Hal says, sliding his card towards Wilma. Guy makes a noise of disagreement, frowning as Hal grins cheekily in response. “Come on, two hundred for an entire wedding? I think that's how much Carol's having us pay for _just_ the boutonnieres.”

Guy grumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and before Hal has the chance to ask him to speak up, Guy's pulling him in for a brief hug. It's fleeting enough that Hal has to ask himself if Guy really _did_ just hug him—and he swears that he had also heard a very hurried _“thank you”_ —but instead of cornering Guy into an explanation, he concludes that it most certainly happened.

“All right, thank you,” Wilma smiles, returning Hal's credit card to him. “Well, we're ready for the ceremony when y'all are!”

Hal approaches Kyle, putting an arm around his shoulders. “You ready, kid?”

“I think I'm nervous,” Kyle admits. “But hell yeah, I am.”

“And what about you, big guy?” John says, bumping his fist against Guy's arm. “Holding up all right?”

“Nah, I'm on the brink of cryin' like an enormous baby,” Guy smirks, but there's an edge of honesty to it that John can't bring himself to pick on. Instead, he just gives Guy's shoulder an encouraging squeeze and smiles at him.

Wilma begins to play the the aged organ in the back, and Hal and John take their respective places next to Guy and Kyle. Guy has the absolute goofiest and heartfelt smile on his face while Kyle's eyes glisten with the beginnings of tears. Simon, in his seat at the frontmost pew, sways his head slowly to the music and uses his souvenir cup as a conductor's baton.

“Good evening to everyone in attendance,” Billy the Batman begins as Wilma's playing fades out. “We're gathered here today to celebrate the union of Guy Gardner, the Green Lantern—one of the _real_ ones!—and Kyle Rayner, the artist. We're here to celebrate their love as they move forward in their journey through marriage.”

He turns to Kyle. “Do you, Kyle, take Guy...”

Simon zones out for a moment, suddenly struck by the feeling that he's forgetting something important. That they're _all_ forgetting something important. He frowns, glancing around the chapel as the ceremony goes on, and he turns back to the front, still confused.

“I do,” Kyle grins.

“And do you, Guy, take Kyle...”

Simon checks his pockets, then checks the bottom of his souvenir cup for _something_. Inspiration, maybe. There's something missing, something _important,_ and aside from him, no one else seems to notice. He stares at the glassy, plastic eyes of the stuffed dragon next to him, trying to concentrate on the thought that keeps eluding him.

“'Course I do,” Guy nods, and he's undoubtedly tearing up now.

“And now, to symbolize the promise of your futures together, may I please have the rings?” Billy asks.

Oh—

_Rings._

John claps a hand to his forehead, only a second after Simon makes the same realization. “We completely forgot about the rings.”

“Don't worry—I'll figure it out,” Simon stands up, already halfway to the entrance. Although the others are already telling him that it's not that big of a deal, he feels like he's failed in some way and has to make up for it. “I'll be back in less than ten minutes! There's gotta be one of those quarter machines nearby, with plastic rings or something.”

And he's out into the brisk night of downtown Las Vegas before anyone can stop him. He jogs past a convenience store, and by a quick glance from the outside, he sees that they don't even have those candy rings. Just a little further down is another store, and reluctantly, Simon enters.

Thankfully, there are only a couple of patrons in the store, and he makes a conscious effort to not look any of them in the eye. He makes a beeline to the counter and lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Do you have rings here?”

“Yes! We have a wide selection of cock rings-”

“No, no, no, no, _no_ ,” Simon says, pushing that image as far away as he possibly can, but laughing against his better judgement. Despite how hilarious it would theoretically be, Simon adamantly believes that _Guy_ and _cock rings_ do not belong in the same _sector_ , much less the same sentence or thought. At least in his mind, anyway. Thank the Guardians he's barely capable of coherent thought, or he'd be having nightmares for days.

When he finally stops giggling out of sheer mortification, Simon shakes his head again. “No, I meant like actual _jewelry._ ”

“Well, the closest things we have are collars, chokers, and handcuffs?” The girl behind the counter retrieves a bin full of the aforementioned items. “And we have a lot of novelty necklaces on clearance as well. You can check out the stuff in here!”

At the very top is a pair of furry handcuffs that are also half-off regular price. Simon really doesn't want to dig through the bin for something suitable, so the cuffs will have to do. Same comedic value as the cock ring, but a lot less cringe-worthy.

As soon as he moves on from that thought, Simon is disappointed in himself for even thinking that furry handcuffs would somehow be better. They're not even _close_ to being better. But, he doesn't linger on it for long; there's still a wedding in-progress, and they're waiting on him.

“Sorry, this is all I could find,” Simon returns, jogging into the chapel and handing the cuffs off to them. “...and they had some cool novelty necklaces on sale. And some weird clothes. Don't ask.”

Wilma makes a strangled sound, like she's holding down a laugh and a sneeze at the same time. Billy actually sounds like he's choking, and the other four are just staring at the fuzzy restraints in mild amusement.

“They'll do,” Guy finally says, but Hal taking takes the cuffs and goes to the nearby broom closet. Before any of them can follow, he emerges, and the chain holding the two cuffs together is broken. He hands the two pieces back to Simon, giving them all a closed-mouth smile. “Okay, we can continue, right?”

“Right...” Simon gives the separated cuffs to Billy, who continues his ministerial duties. Simon wonders how Hal had managed to take the handcuffs apart, and he wonders if the flash of green light he had seen at the bottom of the broom closet's door was a figure of his imagination. But as soon as he takes a seat for the rest of the ceremony, Simon forgets about it. The shot glass necklaces he bought are arguably a bigger deal anyway, he thinks, folding up the receipt and stowing it away in his pocket.

“And by the power vested in me by the fantastic state of Nevada—and because I'm Batman—I now pronounce you spouses for life,” Billy concludes, smiling widely at them. “You may now kiss-”

Guy has already dipped Kyle into a kiss, and everyone else whoops and hollers in celebration. John, Simon, and Hal crowd the two, leaping around them as they scream their heads off. Wilma returns with a bottle of complimentary champagne, and per Hall of Justice Chapel tradition, they raise an enthusiastic toast to the newlyweds.

Billy calls for their attention and produces a digital camera from the utility belt around his waist.

“Time for pictures!!”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, hey, John,” Hal says, tucking the stuffed bear under his arm and holding his phone out to John. “Take a picture of us, will you?”

“Oh, hell yes,” Guy grins, already preparing a pose that best shows off his fresh tattoo. He folds his sleeve up and stands next to Hal, making a huge show of flexing his arm. Hal does the same, and the two eagerly point at their brand-new tattoos as John snaps a couple of photos of them. Simon laughs, readjusting the dragon on his shoulders to make sure that it doesn't touch the ground, and Kyle grins as well, even if he does look a little... troubled by Guy's tattoo.

“...all right, I think that's... good,” John says, taking one final photo.

“Awesome. Thanks,” Hal pockets his phone and flexes his arm once more, for good measure.

“By the way, Guy... Does this officially mean you're a Rayner now? Since your tattoo says _Kyle Rayner_ on it and all,” Simon points out when the all begin their walk down the brightly-lit street of Las Vegas Boulevard.

“Wait, you put down 'Rayner' on the application?” Kyle asks, a blush rising up past the collar of his shirt. “I thought we were just gonna keep our own last names for the time being! I would've put down 'Gardner' if I'd have known...”

“Now don't get me wrong, being a Gardner _is_ about as badass as you can get...” Guy grins smugly, putting an arm—the ink-free one—around Kyle's waist and pulling him close against his side. He continues, ignoring the way the other three are blowing raspberries in his direction. “But I think _Guy Rayner_ has a special kind o' ring to it, wouldn't ya say?”

When Guy mumbles something quietly into Kyle's ear, Simon and Hal dial up their jeering, making over-exaggerated faces of disgust and overstated claims that Guy is just ruining the pureness that is Kyle. But Kyle laughs, and they all tone it down a bit.

“And what about you, Hal?” Guy says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Do you really think Barry's gonna be okay with yours?”

“I'm sure he'll have a good laugh over it,” Hal says, but his grin falters. He _hopes_ that at the very least, Barry will laugh.

“If it's any consolation, you _did_ get the tattoo for free as a result of what happened,” John gently reminds him, and Hal's mood improves significantly. In fact, he begins laughing so hard that they have to stop at the stairs that lead up to Planet Hollywood's Miracle Mile.

“That's right!” Hal nods eagerly, but taking a moment to rub at his eyes because suddenly, the lights seem so much brighter. He must be way more tired than he realizes. “That's right. _Berry Allen_ is hilarious, isn't it?”

“Side-splittin',” Guy says with a snort, because as far as tattoos go, his _tacky_ one beats Hal's _misspelled_ one in his book.

“Iconic,” Simon agrees, looking like a walking Las Vegas gift shop with his brand-new accessories. His many novelty necklaces have turned him into some sort of plastic wind-chime with the way the pendants knock together.

“Not to be the wet blanket, but it's ridiculously early in the morning now,” John says, herding them in the direction of the MGM Grand. “We gotta go back to the suite so that we're ready for our flight later in the afternoon. Oliver's bachelor party, remember?”

“Oh, Christ, that's right,” Guy blinks, his eyes wide. “You're gettin' married too, Hal.”

“ _That's right_ ,” Hal repeats for the umpteenth time, only because he's just now remembering it himself. He glances from his tattooed shoulder to the stuffed bear in his hands, and the glittering lights surrounding them reflect off of the dark acrylic eyes. He straightens the red bowtie on the bear and smiles. “Yeah, let's get home.”

 

* * *

 

“I'm exhausted,” Kyle says, dropping down onto the sofa and hugging the nearest throw pillow. “I wanna go back downstairs to gamble a bit, but I don't think I have it in me anymore.”

“Don't worry, _I'll_ go down for _you_ , sweetheart,” Guy winks at him, and he laughs when Kyle's ears go red at the implication. Simon makes a gagging noise, shaking his head as he pours out a drink at the in-room bar.

“Yeah, I'll take one of those too,” John says mildly.

“And one for me,” Hal nods solemnly, and the three raise their glasses to the middle finger that Guy's extending out to them. After he downs his drink, Hal blows him a patronizing kiss before heading to his room to change into something that's more casual and smells less like cigarette smoke.

“Comedians. The whole lot o' you,” Guy scowls, but not seriously upset. He goes around the back of the couch and drops a kiss on Kyle's shoulder—Simon makes a quieter gagging sound this time around, because it doesn't seem right to make fun of Guy when he's being so genuine—and tilts his head in the direction of the suite's double doors. “I am goin' down to the casino, if any o' you sissies wanna come along.”

“I think I'll just hang out here,” Kyle pats an apologetic hand on Guy's, which earns him an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder.

“I'll go with you,” John says, setting his glass down and sliding off the barstool. “Of all the things we've done since we got here, I can't believe I haven't played a single game of poker yet.”

“I'm good. I might just hit the slots tomorrow morning instead, if we have time,” Simon yawns, capping and uncapping a permanent marker that he'd found lying around.

“Should we wait for Hal? See if he wants to come along?” John asks, just as Hal reappears, considerably dressed-down

Guy raises an eyebrow, confused. “...if you're gonna come downstairs to the casino with us, I think you should put your suit back on. I don't think there's an enforced dress code, but you're lookin' more like a hobo than a high-roller.”

“Hang on, I've got a magic trick to show you guys,” Hal comes in like he's hiding the biggest secret in the world. He holds his hands behind his back, his eyes slowly sweeping across the room in order to add to the suspense and drama of the moment. Everyone looks back at him expectantly, waiting for _something_ to happen, and Hal grins. “ _Shazam._ ”

A bright flash of green light momentarily blinds them, and when it fades away, Hal is suited up and masked, his ring glowing brilliantly on his finger.

And for a very long stretch of time, his act is met with complete silence.

Guy finally clears his throat, raising two fingers to count his concerns off with. “One: that's not what I meant when I said to 'suit up'. And two: that's already Batson's shtick, so you need to find somethin' else to say.”

“And three, actually: you brought _your_ ring after specifically asking _us_ not to,” John says, pointing out the most important part of this new development.

“Hey... _hey_ ,” Guy's eyebrows knit together, and his mild annoyance surprisingly turns into something more positive and cheerful. He's laughing when he approaches Hal, and he throws an arm around Hal's shoulders. “You son of a bitch! Bringin' your ring like that... you played all of us, didn't ya?”

“You mean you guys _didn't_ bring copies of your rings?” Hal sounds sincerely stunned by the fact that everyone had honored his request to leave their power rings at home.

“Nope, I didn't get the memo that we'd be breaking some rules,” Simon frowns, disappointed.

“No one ever gets any memos when Hal decides he's going to break some rules,” John shrugs, but he doesn't seem upset or betrayed. In fact, it's like he was already expecting something like this to happen.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Kyle asks, because although Hal has revealed his secret, there's no clear motive behind why exactly he brought a duplicate of his ring along.

“Didn't think that far ahead, actually,” Hal admits. “Though anything I might've had planned would've depended on you guys bringing your rings too, so... Actually, you guys know what? I'll be right back. I'm just gonna do a quick fly-by, take a couple of pictures, and I'll meet you guys downstairs.”

“All right, fine by me,” Guy shrugs, and John follows him to the suite's exit. “Damn, if I'd've known...”

“You didn't even realize he'd broken his own rule until I pointed it out,” John adds mildly as the door swings shut behind them.

Hal salutes the remaining two and tucks the stuffed bear under his arm before taking off from the terrace. He soars unhurriedly along the strip of hotels and resorts, taking indulgent loops and dips around the various structures that make up the iconic skyline. When he lands at the topmost tier of Paris' Eiffel Tower, he holds out the stuffed bear and snaps a photo of it, using the picturesque glow of Las Vegas Boulevard as a backdrop.

“Barry's gonna love this,” Hal says to himself, pausing for a moment to personally admire the view. He deposits himself on one of the crossbeams and reflects on the group's entire evening, feeling oddly sentimental over strange and trivial things, and he blames it on whatever concoction that Kilowog had given Guy.

As he prepares to take off again, Hal wonders offhandedly what Kilowog's Bolovaxian whiskey would've done to them if it had been left undiluted by regular alcohol, but his ring delivers bad news in a disproportionately calm voice.

“ _Warning. Power levels approaching 0.0%._ ”


End file.
